“I don’t think so. But there would be some likelihood of the enemy spying out our doings in the daylight. We must get away without any brass-band accompaniment.”
“Do you know where my Uncle Solado is now?” asked the girl.
“I do not,” replied the detective.
This was the absolute truth. He did not know. He could have told how Solado and Miguel had been dragged away by Larry Dugan and his two fellow ruffians and carried off in a power launch. But that would only have led to more questioning, which he did not want.
“What time should we start?” asked Marcos.
“Not before nine o’clock,” replied the detective decidedly. “It will be quite dark by that time, and we shall have a chance to slip away without being noticed.”
“I suppose that is the better plan,” assented Marcos. “It will seem like a long day, however.”
“All the better,” rejoined Nick. “You need a rest. These four hours may do you a world of good.”
“You will not remain with me, I suppose?”
“I want to go down to my home to look after my mail and so on. But I will come back early in the afternoon.”